Restraining The Mind's Will
by spellplagued
Summary: Crossover between Star Trek (2009) & Star Trek: Into Darkness, with my own fictional species, neo-historical culture & planet. Star Trek in this respect is the property of J. J. Abrahams, Roberto Orci & Alex Kurtzman. The fictional species, culture & planet is of my own creation. Expect mind-twisting, conflict & drama as well as regular interactions. Rated M for later events.
1. Chapter 1

"Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic."

– Frank Herbert

_Logic runs at the core of things. That is what I thought or was taught at any rate, and so did Spock. But it turns out that Mother Nature – here there is a pause in the entry, paired with a mild sound of disapproval off to one side – always has a surprise up the sleeve. We discovered another race, one that works off neither logic nor emotion but a mingling of both, that results in brilliantly channelled but potentially violent abilities with a biological cause. Similar to the telekinetics. Status: Allies. We have one of them stationed aboard as a science officer, as she seems to have the ability to 'read' electrical signals and people's life signs. Kirk, out. _

The white tendrils and filaments of light from the teleporter faded out, and the blue-shirted hybrid, blue-shirted human and yellow-shirted human exchanged a brief glance – ensuring the other was there and confirming it with a wordless nod. All was as it should be then, all life signs registering of the small party. Not that they had worried at all about the technology malfunctioning, it was Scotty's and Spock Prime's additions that had refined it further. They stepped off the raised platform and onto the ground, before Bones made his first and characteristically blunt assessment of the surroundings after shouldering his medical pack.

"Christ, it looks like a warzone."

Bodies, freshly-dead from the consistency of the wounds, littered both the edges of the platform and the area further afield from it. There was no pattern to where they had fallen, and different banners and standards mingled together. Spock's observance came after a lingering pause.

"If this is where the message originally came from, then we would be better off scanning the surrounding area for higher ground and buildings. To send a message in the middle of a fight of the intensity that is here would have been exceptionally difficult, if not impossible."

Chekov's words of affirmation through the com finally came through.

"There's a few life signs if you go North by about eight clicks. A few are fading out, like there's a glitch or some sort of barrier…"

"…or they're dieing." Bone's gravelly and accented words cut across the Scot's observation, but no attempt at protesting that assessment was made. True enough.

"We should find out what happened, Captain. One of those life signals may be the individual that sent the message of distress." Spock's conclusion was, as ever, the one that made the most sense.

Over the battlefield did they pick their way. Most of the bodies on the ground looked human, save for perhaps a subtle point to some ears and unique scarification patterns on the faces of others. The wounds seemed conventional enough at first, although some seemed to have fallen while clutching at their hearts or throats, their hands still frozen into claw-like shapes like they had perished on the spot within an instant. That was when, still a good few feet in front of them, something moved. Kirk spotted it first, moving a hand to rest on his phaser and tensing up. The movement ahead stopped, frozen on the spot, but as it was the only humanoid-shaped thing within the area that was upright aside from them, it had little chance in hiding successfully.

Spock looked ahead, before gesturing subtly for the Captain to move forwards as he did. Slowly and steadily, did they begin to close the gap.

"Any other signs of life in the immediate area?" was Kirks' discreet murmur up to the ship.

"No sir, just that one nearest to you. The rest are still some clicks avay." Bones spoke up next.

"This is the first planet we've come across in this cluster, correct?"

"Affirmative, McCoy." Spock's crisp tone came from his right.

"So how do we expect to communicate with them, if we don't know anything about them?"

"Well gentlemen, that's what we're here for. To explore places that haven't been seen before, and to make new alliances with new people. There's bound to be language barriers…" There was a pause before Kirk finished off his own sentence.

"…and surely Uhura can find some common features out of the languages we do know." No doubt that the xenolinguist was keenly listening in, attentive and curious like most of the crew tended to be when they arrived on a new planet. This was the first in quite some time, although it would not have been on their list had the transmission not came through.

The figure warily moved forwards for a moment, then seemed to stumble… then another figure, this time one that had been on the ground, jerked upwards. A flash of wood, what looked like a spear, jabbed upwards and even as the trio began to run forwards, did it impact into the shoulder of the one standing. The screech was high, but seemed to have a quality to it that almost too animal for a human (or most humanoids) to realistically make. Bones was already – automatically – moving into a run forwards towards the commotion. A trained response, Spock observed, and one that came without prior thought to the nature of the injured individual. Kirk on the other hand, had drawn his phaser and closed the distance between them fast, a series of actions which Spock mirrored. The speared individual which was confirmed female as he closed the distance, then made a sharp wrenching gesture towards the other. But while her hand didn't reach the one holding the rudimentary spear up, the figure below began to convulse, jerking and spasming as blood began to fleck from his lips. Her eyes were wide, determined – none of them yet noted the black sclera. Finally the figure still, just as Bones closed the distance and made to move for the spear. She moved, swiftly, although of course impeded by the foreign object. Raising a hand warily despite the fact that she was unarmed, her eyes flitted between the three warily. Half-looking ready to run, but Bones took a step back then. He knew what was coming from her steps, her movements, her breathing.

"We aren't here to hurt…." She collapsed before the Captain had gotten the words out of his mouth.

"…you." He finished the sentence rather lamely, and watched as the First Doctor knelt beside her.

"Well her pulse is more regular than I'd expect and shock hasn't set in yet. Bring her up to the Enterprise. I can quarantine and assess her better there than in the middle of this damn mess."

"Affirmative idea, Doctor."

"Chekov, beam us up."


	2. Chapter 2

She didn't know how long she had laid there, listening to the sounds filtering in to her mind around her. Beeping, like that of a bug but it seemed… flatter, as though faked. Certainly it wasn't natural. Voices too, some accented in ways different to others. Once or twice she had felt hands on her, studying and swift, checking at her wrists and neck. Finally however, her eyes opened and almost instantly closed again. Too bright, too glaring and too directed just at her. Movement to her left.

"Doctor McCoy, she's awake." Female, and the dialect unfamiliar.

"Ah, good."

A face leant over her. Male. The features were not heavily marked or wrinkled, although it did not have the glow of youth to it either. Strong-jawed, with a suggestion of stubble, and brown eyes. Odd… there was white at the edges rather than the black she was so accustomed to. She frowned a little, then took in her surroundings properly. Her heart rate began to elevate, and it was then that she became aware of the tube within her; a thin thing, and a point into the flesh. Scrambling at it with her nails with a quiet hiss, McCoy reacted instantly. He rested a hand on her wrist, trying to still the movement before gently but firmly guiding it away.

"You're alright… you're safe."

But while the panic did not subside fully, she did stop for a moment and focussed on him properly. Now sat up, she was able to make proper eye contact. Before he could speak again however, he felt something heavy brush against his mind… before, through that touch, came a barrage of emotions.

_Confusion, puzzlement, fear… flashing scenes of a battlefield raging around them, of fire being wielded out of someone's hands, of blood boiling within veins, of others fleeing and gaining speed away from the conflict at a distance greater than normal humans were capable of… curiousity then stirred to the surface._

Panting heavily, he let go sharply and wheeled away before making sure that she hadn't moved.

"Stay…." His tone was firm, certainly that of an order. Hopefully if she didn't understand what he said, then she would at least understand the tone of his voice and the gesture. Then, just as she seemed to do as he suggested, did he dart forwards and swiftly inject the hypnospray into her neck. Her eyes widened… then she slumped back onto the bed. Breathing out strongly through his nose, he then secured bindings to her wrists and ankles as a precaution. No need for her to struggle and risk tearing open her shoulder again. He briskly made his way towards the Bridge.

Spock had been studying the charts diligently when McCoy entered the room. Looking up briefly to study the man, he was mildly intrigued to note his expression. Exasperation or confusion, and a mild suggestion of worry all poorly concealed. Poorly concealed to him at any rate. But evidently, Kirk was not entirely blind either, and he looked at the Doctor properly as well.

"What is it McCoy? You look rattled."

"Your composure is indeed rather more outwardly discomforted than usual."

Spock didn't react to the scowl that he got in return, but a brow quirked up slightly as the man made his explanation. What he was saying was certainly _fascinating_.

"The woman we took up. She's awake. I don't think she can honestly understand what we're saying, but as I was trying to get her to keep still she…" He paused, considering best how to word it. "…touched my mind with hers. I saw flickering imagery, and emotion."

Spock's attention was focussed then intently. Telepathy was not an alarmingly common trait or at least, it was not common to hear of someone who could initiate such a link with someone who had no ability whatsoever. Usually that required at least a degree of sensitivity, which he had deduced that McCoy did not have. Kirk knew this, and he too looked mildly surprised.

"What was the telepathy like?" Spock's question came next, brisk and curt.

"Christ, I don't know. It was a confusing blur for me half the time. If you want to find out, go and ask her yourself. Or not, seeing as how she doesn't seem to understand what I'm saying verbally."

Uhura, naturally, overheard and turned in the chair she was sat in to better face them. This was what she was trained for after all; alien languages were her speciality, her forte and passion all rolled into one.

"I can always try and talk to her." Nobody noticed the brief look that Spock sent towards her, or the fact that it was returned. Always exceptionally subtle, barely distinct flickers that differed from their normal composure. Kirk considered the options.

"Uhura, please go and see if you can calm her down and get some sense out of her."

Bones paused for a moment, then followed. He didn't trust the woman – the indigenous one that is – and at any rate, she was still healing and he didn't want her attempting to overexert herself at all right after he'd stitched her up. That, and he had yet to run a full diagnostic on her physiology. Questions plagued his mind doggedly.

Uhura sat on a chair beside the bed, briefly taking the time while the woman was still sedated to observe her properly. Her clothing, bundled up on a chair nearby for now, was similar to a dull leather jumpsuit, with reinforced layers of the material over the shoulders, forearms and upper thighs. The boots, heeled and soled in metal, seemed similarly designed and decorated. There were no real embellishments; it all seemed quite practical and to the point. Her features were sharp, bordering on masculine, while still being distinctly female – strong was what came to mind. There were scars visible under the hospital gown, some fresher than others. She stopped her studying then, then looked to McCoy and wordlessly nodded in confirmation. Pumping the adrenaline into the hypnospray and then injecting it into her neck with a distinct hissing sound, he stood, ready to hold her down. Not that she could move too far, judging by the bindings. Stirring slightly, her eyes opened. Black sclera, with an ember orange iris. They remained vacant for a moment, then focussed sharply as she struggled into a clumsy sitting position.

Uhura leant forwards, slowly and slightly, before making the world-wide open-palmed gesture that meant 'look, I'm not carrying a big nasty weapon'. The other eyed her suspiciously. Uhura could empathise as to why, to a degree. How would she feel, if she was surrounded by strange people on a strange craft? But, she was here for a reason, and it was time to try.

"Do you know what I am saying." English, no response.

"What about now?" Klingon. No reaction either, not even a flicker.

"_What is your name?_" Nothing there either, and that was Orion.

**"We just want to help you, to try and understand you…" **Vulcan made her eyes narrow, but no words. For the next hour, Uhura tried every dialect she could think of, every language that she could even partially recall from her years of study. Nothing. Occasionally there seemed to be a faint reaction, as though perhaps a word on its own was recognised, but never any verbal reply. Finally she leant back on the stool with a quiet sigh of exasperation and looked to McCoy.

"This isn't getting anywhere…"

McCoy frowned. He'd been observing both of them the entire time. The woman – still nameless – had on occasion made it seem as though she had wanted to react. A tensing in her throat, a swallow-like motion, a jawline muscle working.

"I think I know why."

Moving forwards, he took the woman's chin in his hand. She tensed, her muscles tightening in preparation to react. He kept up the grip, but didn't move otherwise. Slow and steady. Unlike Kirk and other members of the crew who he felt comfortable ordering around, she was an entirely new kettle of fish. He tried, then, to calm her… making quiet sounds out of his throat, like one might do to a spooked horse. He certainly didn't want a mental assault like last time, thank you very much. He prised open her mouth… blocking anyone else's view, before letting go and gesturing for Lieutenant Uhura to follow him back onto the bridge. Christine Chapel looked at them, before making a note on her board. She'd also figured it out, more so from the grim look on the doctor's face than much else.

"What is it? What did you do?"

"There's a reason she can't reply back."

"She didn't understand me, no matter what I tried."

"She understood you with some of those words. But she could not have spoken back even if she wanted to." His lips tightened then, and expression mildly darkened.

"Someone's removed most of her tongue."


	3. Chapter 3

Kirk considered the information for a time, mulling over what both the Doctor and Uhura had confirmed. A woman with telepathic abilities, with no tongue. He mulled it over. He then straightened up, looking towards McCoy who'd been waiting nearby for some manner of decisive response.

"Bones…"

"Captain…?"

"Do a complete physical. I want everything measured, catalogued and classified that you can about her. I want to find out what she is, where she came from and what she can do. Are you certain she's not a threat?" It was Spock who interjected then for a time, although directing his question to the Doctor.

"She has shown no signs of aggression?" 'Bones' considered the question for a moment, going through what he had gathered from his interactions with her, and then after reviewing the security footage for what she did when he was not around.

"No, none. Some disorientation and frustration over her lack of ability to communicate and her injury but, that's normal. God knows that I'd be frustrated if I couldn't talk and was surrounded by people I didn't know. She seems to have figured out that she is relatively safe here, even if she doesn't know where here IS, or what we are." His voice was gruff, betraying some of the lack of sleep that he had gotten over this patient. Not from her causing trouble, but out of his peaked curiousity over her. Lieutenant Uhura too, had also taken an interest in the woman, if only because of the language barrier – it presented a tempting challenge, if her disability could be worked around. There was bound to be some gadget or another in the hold that could be put to such a use.

Spock meanwhile, considered the problem. The logical thing to do would be to perform at least a partial mind meld with her, in order to gain more sufficient answers. But on the other hand, the touching of minds was a gesture done of closeness. And given how she was telepathic, there would remain some degree of contact between them if he did so, even after breaking off the meld. He did not, however, take long to consider the problem.

"Captain, might I make a suggestion?" Kirk's nod of permission was given.

"If I perform a mind meld, I might be able to get better answers out of her than guesswork."

There were a few looks of surprise, but his features gave nothing away, as per the norm'. It was logical to offer his services when none of the other crew members had passed any of the psychic evaluations high enough to do so. One or two did gain an increased ability when stressed, but the stress would only alienate the answers and make the bond uncomfortable.

"Alright, let's see what you can do."

Less than an hour later, and Spock was sat in front of her on a chair within Sickbay, with McCoy lingering nearby ready to intervene, Chapel assisting and Kirk on the fringes of the room, more out of curiousity than much else. Either way, there were still a few days to go before they were due to make a report on the status of the planet. She looked between them, her shoulder's tense, before Uhura took to trying to explain.

"He…" gesturing to Spock. "..will try to talk to you." At the word 'talk', she gestured not to her mouth or throat, but to her head. A brow rose before she seemed to figure out what was going on, and she gave a nod of confirmation, before matching the gesture. A wordless 'go ahead'? Either way. McCoy still had her hooked up to the machines however. While her vitals were stable, he wanted to see how and if they changed during a psychic contact. Kirk, leaning against a bed nearby, watched with both a casual outward look, but was in fact far more attentive. As much as he didn't quite 'get' how it would work through experience, he did understand that as a telepath, Spock was naturally the most qualified to give it a go. Finally, the Vulcan opened his eyes after performing momentary meditation, and extended his hand. The woman remained still for a moment before, before he could stop her, returning the gesture. Their minds touched at the same time.

_A great weight, more so of age than memories, pressed briefly against his own. He kept up his shields firmly, pushing forwards, trying to find a place in the middle of their minds where they could communicate better. Surprisingly, he found no resistance, save for perhaps the odd slight 'shove' if he got too near to a part of her memories for comfort. Finally, he could 'see'; there she was, stood in what she was wearing in the medical bay, much like he was. He did not pause for long. _

_"What are you?" A subtle hint of amusement was transmitted across in reply. _

_"Impatient, aren't you? My race have no name, not amongst ourselves. We simply… are." Well that was unhelpful. She made no attempt to reply to that brief sensation before he forced it back._

_"Do you have a name?"_

_"You may call me Ashlultum." She did not yet imply what the name meant. _

_"What happened, down on your planet?"_

_Her lips tightened, briefly drawing into a snarl. _

_"Long has there been a war there. Nobody in living memory knows why it started, and those who are alive now simply continue it on out of not knowing any other life. We are raised to it from when young. Sometimes we have an advantage. Now, was one of those times when they did." Her head raised slightly. _

_"Such massacres are commonplace." But there was a flicker of something behind that hardened expression. Worry? Concern? Impatience? Spock might not have been one to show his emotions, but he could certainly read them in others even if he did not always comprehend them. _

_"Is there something still down there?" That prompted a snarl. _

_"My… commander, my superior, is down there still. I know not of his health, although the link between us is faintly there. Your ship's distance weakens it, and the strange things you surround me with give me a headache." That answered it. _

_"We will help you. And we will find a way for you to talk so then we do not have to use telepathy."_

_Her lips curled up then, in a sneer that was quite fittingly arrogant as she suddenly stalked closer to him._

_"To not use it, is to let it grow weak, to rot, to fade." He felt her mental presence grow rapidly then, pressing against him… goading him, or trying to force him out of the link. Confusion, contempt but on the fringes that he was sure that he wasn't meant to sense… disappointment and loneliness. Another so alike, but so different at the same time. _

Their hands dropped, and he refrained from looking too surprised or startled at what he had discovered. Her expression, he noted, was coldly neutral, which was only made all the more intense by the strange configuration of her eyes. He stood, braced himself inwardly for a moment, before moving towards the Captain. Uhura's look of concern would be answered later. Duty first.

"Well?" Quietly enough asked so then the woman didn't hear.

"She refused to say what she was, but she did say that the war on the planet has been going on for generations, to the point where no living individual knows precisely why it started. Neither side wins, as they gain and lose advantages much like we witnessed at a balanced rate." He felt a headache starting just at the front and base of his skull. She had been… powerful. Maybe not with refined control or much sense of logic, but he did wonder just what her potential might be if she was.

"She also implied that her Commander is down there."

Kirk considered the answer for a moment.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, looks like we have someone to retrieve."

Not so much for her but, to stop the war. An alliance could be made, between them and Starfleet, perhaps, although there had been no evidence as of yet that they were a warp-capable race.

That he knew of, that is.


End file.
